The US Gypsum
Company Bowling Team
@ Hafner's Bowl in 1956(they're mostly dead now)

HISTORY

The Hillcrest
Bowling Center was born in the heyday of bowling in 1956,
when an enterprising young man named Don Hafner borrowed some
money, quit his part-time job bagging groceries at Hove's
Supermarket, and built a basement bowling alley that he called
the Hillcrest Bowl.

Not long
thereafter, the youthful entrepreneur bought out the retail
space above the lanes, and converted the whole place into
a restaurant and liquor lounge with a bowling alley in the
basement. At some unknown point a second bowling alley was
built on the upper level.

The resulting
establishment was known as "Hafner's," and it lasted
for a long time, until Don sold it. It was renamed the "Hillcrest
Bowling Center" in the early 90's, and changed hands
a couple of times as owners less savvy than Don Hafner had
been messed it all up and lost their shirts.

Which brings
us up to the modern era. In late 2002, Hafner's Hillcrest
Bowl closed to the public forever. The power to the pin machines,
the lane lights, and the sign out front was shut down for
good. The nondescript-looking, memory-haunted building crouched
vacant and lonely, silently begging for some final love, some
attention, some affection for one last kiss before
dying.

It was the
third afternoon of Action Squad's "Saint Paul Vacancy
Tour." I'd obtained a list of the abandoned buildings
that were registered with the city of Saint Paul, entered
into a spreadsheet, and sorted it so that we could best concentrate
our efforts on commercial structures, rather than abandoned
houses.

The only
info we had were addresses; no names, or indications of size
or purpose. Day one had focused on the buildings that had
been abandoned the longest. That solo trip had been cut short
when my car started overheating and I locked my keys in my
car while parked in downtown Saint Paul looking under the
hood.

Day two,
Foxilla and I had checked out the remains of the previous
day's list, plus some more recently-vacated structures.

On this
day, day three, Tourettes and I were hitting the final listing
of buildings that I thought might be of interest.

At first,
I almost blew off the place: it was a drab building, and it
seemed unlikely that we'd find a way in. By this point, I
was a bit fatigued from driving all over the city just to
look at what were mostly totally crappy places that would
not even have been all that interesting to get into when I
was 13 years old.

I was about
to drive off without even doing the obligatory "hop out
and walk all the way around looking for access points"
(with clipboard and pen in hand to look vaguely official),
when Tourettes pointed out the sign out front. Hmmm, the place
had been a bowling alley. This piqued my interest I've
always wondered what the machines look like that set up the
pins and return the bowling balls.

So, we parked
the car and started walking the perimeter, scanning for open
doors, climbing routes to the roof, unlocked windows, etc.
Nada. There was very little reason to be hopeful as we rounded
the corner to check out the final side of the building, which
featured only a set of metal doors.

However,
just as has happened so many times before, the most obvious
route was the one left accessible; when I yanked on the door,
it pulled open grudgingly. Someone had done a half-assed job
of securing the door, by twisting some wire around the inside
handle and then twisting the other end around a pipe in the
ceiling several feet away. It wouldn't have kept an 8 year-old
child out, and it didn't keep us out, either.

I suddenly
became aware that I was standing in broad daylight in full
view of the busy street with the open door in my hand. Before
anyone could notice, we quickly slammed the door shut again
and nonchalantly strolled back to the car. Tourettes was kicking
herself for having made other plans for the evening, and I
was already excitedly planning to return that night, under
the cover of darkness.

LATER
THAT NIGHT

MuppySkum,
Agent Wop and I parked the car near the bowling alley around
9 PM and walked toward the Hillcrest. As quickly as possible,
we popped the door open and slipped inside. When we turned
our lights on, we were greeted by a rather disappointing sight:
the interior space had been totally gutted. Exposed wiring,
concrete, and plumbing were the only things we could see in
the dusty, grey space around us.

Being Action
Squad, of course, we quickly adjusted our expectations downward
and merrily started seeing what this new forbidden zone had
to offer. The discovery of a couple of heavy safes,
given the scant promise of such an empty place, was cause
for excitement and photographs.

A door led
through into a water-damaged hallway, which went to the right
and left. Right went to a locked glass exterior door, which
we were cautious not to shine our flashlights around for fear
of attracting unwanted attention. I led the way to the left,
and was the first through the door at the end, which had an
asbestos warning poster taped
to it.

I opened
the door, fully expecting more gutted, grey, open spaces
but instead laid eyes on a beautiful sight. The bowling alley
was intact! A long corridor with rows of lockers led off to
the left, toward the bowling area. The lanes were straight
ahead over a low dividing wall, from left to right. To the
right, a door marked "Employees
Only" drew me like a bug to a zapper, because I immediately
knew it had to lead into the mystery-shrouded pin-setting
machine room.

The door
opened easily, if creakily. We tried to keep our voices down
as we filed in, but it was tricky. There were so damn many
things to see and excitedly point out to the others
from the machines themselves, each as big as a compact car,
to the various objects that had been left behind. It appeared
that the owners had not taken anything with them when they
shuttered the place: there were tools, signs, bowling balls,
pins, and more every place we looked. The mood was one of
frantic and childlike joy, as we all scattered throughout
the long, narrow back room
to see as many new things as possible.

Eventually
we exited the back room by crawling
out through the pin machines and into the bowling lanes,
which was pretty dang neat. The rest of the level proved just
as interesting: a bar, lounge,
shoe rental station, kitchen,
and more all dust-choked and ghostly, yet still almost
fully stocked, as though the alley was just forgotten one
night after a normal nightly closing.

The windows
were not boarded, so we were paranoid about someone noticing
our flashlights. The mood got a bit tense when we thought
we heard noises from the front of the building was
someone coming in after us? We all stood frozen, ears straining,
lights turned off.

Someone
whispered "I swear I hear someone at the front door,"
and I quickly led the three of us, tiptoeing through the inky
blackness, toward the back-up plan route I'd mentally book-marked
earlier (I always try to have a "flight plan" in
mind in case we're discovered). It wasn't quite an escape,
but it would be a good hiding place that also allowed us to
see what the heck was really going on outside.

Earlier,
I'd noticed that a large storage and janitor's closet featured
a ladder leading up to a trapdoor, which was wide open. So
we crept out, trying to be quiet on the gravel. We couldn't
hear any cause for alarm, so I carefully walked over to each
of the roof's edges in turn, peeking over and half expecting
to see a squad car. But there wasn't anybody there; either
our ears were fucking with us, or it had just been the sounds
of a building settling.

So it was
back to exploring. Instead of making us more cautious, the
false alarm scare seemed to have the opposite effect. Re-emboldened
for no good reason, we relaxed a bit and even did a bit of
bowling, and we all had a small token drink from the bar (which
was still semi-stocked, with all the nastiest, cheapest booze
still there).

There was
so much shit to see, it was overwhelming. A hulking big screen
TV. A small stage, complete
with PAs. A sound equipment room. Rows of bowling trophies.
Storage closets full of bowling
balls. Hundreds of lockers, many still with belongings
in them. Scores of old-style leather bowling shoes. Piles
of Hafner's drink tokens. Basically, almost everything you'd
find in an active bar/bowling alley combo. Wow.

Eventually,
our desire to try to see everything on the main floor was
overshadowed by our desire to find out what was down the stairs
we'd seen when we first got into the bowling alley area. So
we descended.

And found
out that our fun was just getting started there was
another full bowling alley down there, another pin machine
room (this one was flooded),
and another bar!

We had a
blast checking out the whole basement, but kept thinking we
heard noises from upstairs, which put us on edge.

I started
to get that feeling the one that tells me, "hey,
so far, so good ... but quit pushing your luck, and get outta
here."

So as soon
as we'd seen everything, we headed back upstairs, killed our
lights, and slipped away into the night undetected, with the
huge, triumphant grins on our faces that only a successful
night of Action Squadding can provoke.

Epilogue

The next
time I saw Hafner's Hillcrest Bowling Center, it wasn't there.
When I returned in the spring to take a few more exterior
photos, there, where my memory insisted that the building
should be, was nothing but a flat, empty gravel lot.

Don Hafner
died in 1999. The bowling alley that he'd breathed life into
joined him in 2003.

Now, as
insubstantial as any ghost, it lives on only in the memories
of those who bowled there ... and in ours.

PPS: Guestbook Entry 12/26/10

Name: Steve Klund | Location: Havelock, NC | Comments:

I just saw the article regarding Hillcrest bowling Centre / "Hafner's". MY first job was a busboy there in 1967 and left there upon enlistment into the Marines in 1971. I have very fond memories. Don was a demanding but fair employer. He expected each employee to give their best and would let you know when you were not. He and his brother Al taught me many lessons regarding life, leadership, and business ethics. I spent many hours learning how to bowl and participating in leagues there. When my wife and I married, we had our wedding dinner / reception there (she worked as a waitress in the Rumpus Room for 3 years prior to us getting married). I remember Don "escorting" more than one teen off premise when attempting to get cigarettes from a vending machine. I also remember the Head Chef "Mac" discussing(?) (with meat cleaver in hand) with a customer why he should not have asked for katsup to put on a filet mignon. The heat of the rumpus room kitchen in the dead of winter matched a day in death valley, standing outside in -20 degree to cool off. I have many memories of Hafner's / Hillcrest Bowling Alley. Thank you for your article!